


Tightening the Thread

by Enchantable



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Babies, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-17
Updated: 2013-08-17
Packaged: 2017-12-23 18:51:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/929879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchantable/pseuds/Enchantable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mako's cleaning out the last of Stacker's boxes and comes across a blue coat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tightening the Thread

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Mako and Raleigh have a conversation about babies. With optional sexy-times for baby making practice.

"Mako?"

He peers into the office, balancing two trays from the cafeteria. Mako doesn’t seem to hear him. She’s cleaning out some of Stacker’s old boxes that were found a few days ago. He’s done his best to walk the line between always being there and letting her have her privacy. Meals are a good time when he has a reason to be there. Her back’s to him and he sets down the trays as quietly as he can before coming around.

He sees the blue plaid dress before he sees the tears that are wet on her cheeks.

A pale double breasted coat is folded neatly next to it and on top of those are a pair of black stockings, one with the foot torn almost entirely off. He kneels down and she looks up at him, but makes no move to wipe at her cheeks. He kneels in front of her. He knows the clothes, he even remembers what it felt like to run with one shoe clutched in his hand and the monsters at his heels.

"I was so excited to wear this," Mako says, breaking the silence between them, "I saw the coat in a magazine and I begged my mother for it. She gave me the dress instead and I tried to be excited," she smiles faintly, "I was a terrible liar," she shakes her head, "but my mother just smiled and when we were about to leave she told me it was going to be cold out. I ran back to get my coat and this was there," she swallows and shakes her head as another tear makes it’s way down her cheek, "it was too hot but I wore this the entire time."

Silently Raleigh reaches out and covers her hand with his. The dress is soft under his fingers. It’s been cleaned since her frantic run through the deserted streets, but he can remember the feeling of dust and how when she looked out at the city she started to cry in earnest when she thought of the way her mother would look at her broken shoe and dirty clothes and realized her mother would never give her any look ever again if she got her clothes dirty. 

He runs his thumb over the curve of her hand as she looks at the coat sadly in her hands. Her fingers brush over the curve of her thumb before he drops his hand to the coat. He reaches out and picks it up, careful to preserve the precise folds he knows came from Pentecosts’ own hands. He runs his thumb over the soft material and frowns as one of the buttons loosens under his fingers. Mako’s eyes widen before she mutters in Japanese and closes her eyes, fighting back the latest onslaught of tears.

He sets the coat aside and pushes himself to his feet, making his way from the desk into the small bathroom. There’s a sewing kit in the medicine cabinet and he fishes it out. He comes back to where Mako’s sitting and drops down next to her, close enough so that their thighs touch. He pulls the coat into his lap and grabs the needle and thread, picking a blue that should match. He threads the needle.

"It’s just loose," he says glancing over at her, "five seconds I can fix it."

He isn’t sure why he’s asking permission but it feels like he should. She nods her head, reaching up and wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand. He carefully pokes the needle through the fabric and sews back on the loose button, making sure it’s tight. She looks down and he fights not to smile too widely as he moves on to the next button, carefully making sure the two neat rows are all secure. 

"This is tiny for a teenager," he says looking at the coat, "are all the girls in your family small?"

"Yes," she says and toys with the neck of the dress, "yours?"

"Not really," he says, "my sister never would have fit into this at thirteen," he looks at the coat, "at ten maybe."

"Ten," Mako repeats and he nods.

"I guess our kid will wear it at eleven or twelve."

His hand pauses and mentally he swears. It’s not like they’ve talked about that shit. Kids and marriage and the life they’re building together. To be fair it’s not like either of them hasn’t accepted it, hasn’t acknowledged it, but they don’t mention things like the white silk she keeps carefully perserved in the closet or the small velvet box he has tucked in the one drawer that locks in their room. He feels his ears get hot as he looks hard at the blue fabric, praying that Mako will just let the conversation drop. 

"What if it’s a boy?" she asks instead. 

He glances over at her and she meets his eyes steadily. 

"Then we have another," he says, "siblings are fun."

"How many siblings?" she questions him.

"Four or five?" he tries and despite having tears in her eyes she manages to glare at him, "fewer?"

"Until they develop the technology for you to be pregnant we are not having five children," she says to him, "three, maybe four," she says, "preferably three."

"Yeah," he says, unable to stop his grin, "three sounds good. At least one girl right?"

She nods as he finishes the last button and ties off the thread carefully. He holds out the coat to her and she puts it on top of the dress and the stockings before leaning against him. He kisses the top of her head and wraps an arm around her shoulders. 

"Names?" she asks. 

"We can’t name them before we meet them," he says. She raises her eyebrows and he shrugs, feeling the heat spread to his face, "Nancy if it’s a girl," he admits finally.

"I like that," she says, "Charles if it’s a boy."

"What about the third one?" he questions.

"Let’s worry about the first two," she says.

He smiles because he can’t really argue with that logic and picks up her hand. He presses his lips to the third finger of her left hand, kissing it soft and slow, right where he’s going to put that ring in his drawer. When he pulls his lips back she slides her hand up and buries her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer and kissing him.

He tastes the salt on her lips and pulls her closer to him. He doesn’t think of crying as a weakness, he does it a lot himself, but he hates when she cries. He wants to fight every monster and hold her as close as he can. She moves with him easily, winding up on his lap as they kiss. He’s glad for the desk at his back as he wraps his arms around her and bends his knees, pulling her closer to the growing tightness in his pants. She pulls back abruptly and leans her forehead against his.

"The Marshall will not be pleased if we make a child in his office," she tells him in Japanese and he grins.

"Then the Marshall shouldn’t have locked his door," he says and kisses her again. 

Herc makes them scrub his office. 

Nine months later Charles Becket is born.


End file.
